Yes, fuck them. Like people can’t wipe their noses or touch dirty surfaces in gloves. I wonder how often the non-washers even change their gloves anyway. The other day I was at Subway, and they had one person out front. She made my sandwich in gloves, rang it up, took my money, and went back to the next customer’s sandwich in the same damn gloves! :smack: Fuck useless, sweaty gloves.
And thank you for not making me a hand sanitizer flavored chicken breast. That stuff is great when you don’t have options, like every time I touch something in a tourist area, but not in everyday life.
Perfect example of somebody following “the rules” with no understanding of the reason behind “the rules”.
The sad fact is that the health inspectors would probably give her +1.
We humans have survived for how many thousands of years before these rules?
I credit my own mother giving me food poisoning (I remember how she handled food when I was a kid, and recognizing her mistakes in hindsight) … all those times I had “the flu” as a kid … for my amazing immune system. The “flu”? Influenza is a respiratory disease. It shouldn’t have had me vomiting so much.
That passed through my mind, but I think it’s more like she’s a too-nice manager who doesn’t know how to confront lazy assholes who were far better salesmen than I was. I’ve continued to grow (and rebuilding my brain after my bout with the sauce) and they are spinning their wheels the same way they always have. And complaining how in our new location they can no longer read the sports, do crosswords, or sleep. Heads should roll, or be shown that they have good reason to fear rolling, but these guys have no investment in the job and will just retire a few months earlier (he’s 68) or finally move if they are pushed.
This is why I’m always scouting talent there, though it’s a forlorn lot of inexperienced kids and people with the wrong experience. I’m sixty, with no plans to retire, and if I’m stuck at this stupid job the rest of my days, I want to build a team that embarrasses ME with how well they do. Then quits for better jobs.
And yet, I dreamt I was offered a promotion and I laughed at them for very good reasons. Go figure.
My grandfather worked in sales; several of his jobs were three month routes visiting their customer’s stores to get the orders for the next quarter. For most people that meant “travel for 11 weeks, do the paperwork and hand it in on the 12th.”
He’d get home at the end of the 8th week, spend the 9th avoiding any locations where he might be seen by a coworker, hand his paperwork in on Monday of the 10th, get the 10th and 11th off officially, then get called in to please help his coworkers square their paperwork on time. His secret was twofold: get out of bed before lunchtime, do each day’s paperwork on the same day.
The very definition of a great Road Warrior! Wife’s uncle was like that. His route was Wisconsin, as was his vacation home. He had inherited the client list from his mentor in the 50s so he knew everybody, and their kids, for decades so visits were a formality.
Please don’t tell my supervisor that my job will end in two weeks after three years worth of hard work, leaving me with no alternatives and no income, and then turn around and invite me to lunch.
On Friday, we have food brought in, buffet-style. It comes in at 11:15, and people start to prepare plates. There’s usually an initial rush, but it just sits out so people can get food at their leisure.
45 minutes later, a co-worker goes back and start boxing “left-overs” up to take home. We aren’t talking a piece of chicken or a scoop of mashed potatoes. She filled an entire 1 gallon ziploc bag with fried chicken.
Hopefully nobody wanted to wait until noon to grab some lunch!
The firm hired a new secretary about a month ago. An addition, not a replacement, and it was good to have an extra hand on board. She seemed to be working out well. She sat right next to me, so I was aware that she had a pre-planned vacation coming up next week. I did think it a bit odd that she seemed to be packing up her few personal things (coffee cup, water bottle), but I just assumed that she wanted to take them home and wash them rather than let them sit for a week.
A little while after she left, the office manager saw me in the hallway, and said, “So, you know, L’s gone…” “Yes, gone on vacation.” “No, gone…gone. So, (and then begins to discuss plans for covering her attorney for the next week).”
Now it makes sense that they were interviewing a new secretary on Thursday. Too bad interviewed-lady was terrible. (I was asked on the spot to give her a typing test and ask her a few interview questions.)
In a hotel in Houston getting dinner at the bar, Bill orally on fox , it was so painful I had to ask to change channel . I am now watching baseball , which in its mind numbing tedium ( and I come gel the country that thought cricket was a good idea) is so much more preferable. On the flip side the people around me were grateful for changing channel so they must not be lunatics .
Had to fucking CORNER my SpinelessMngr with an hour to go on that meeting request I’d sent her about LazyBastard, our roles, etc:
"I sent you a meeting request … "
“Yeah! I saw it!”
"For this morning … "
“Yeah!”
“OK, but I didn’t know … if you were gonna … y’know … accept it? And attend?”
Christ. It’s in 15 minutes. Wish me luck, folks. This SM is very good at saying lots of pretty words that sound nice, but don’t actually *mean *much of anything, and that’s the trap I’m afraid of encountering.
I haven’t been around these boards much (that may change), but I have to share something that just occurred.
The place I work does a lot of International business, and we just completed a minor (but significant to the customer) inspection and replacement. I asked the office that had spearheaded it to prepare a memo simply stating that the ‘mission is completed’ that I could forward to the customer so they could get some ‘street cred’.
Just to explain, they belong to a different organization (we’re co-located); they do the technical stuff, I do the management and liaison with the customer, which is why I wanted them to get the credit.
So I get the memorandum today (they need six coordinations for signature). And right at the bottom one of those *)(^&% managers had written "This memorandum is not approved for release to foreign customers! Even though it describes exactly what they have done to support foreign customers!
So now I have to write a memo (which will be almost identical to their memo) and any credit that gets reflected will appear to come to my office–even though it should be (and I tried to get it for them) going to the folks who actually did the work.
PS–I was wrong-they needed SEVEN signed coordinations for this memo…
I got my sit-down with SpinelessManager, who told me she’d already spoken with **LazyBastard about reciprocity of backing each other up. She did a pretty good job of weaseling out of anything concrete regarding one of my other chief grievances but there’s a big project coming up that I’ll have to handle mostly myself, and I *hope *I made it clear that I intend to revisit the issue when that time crunch comes.
On a related note, the barely-minimum-viable handling of a particular support issue by **LazyBastard **came to the attention of SpinelessManager’s own boss, who – judging by the size of the new one he ripped LB in a CCd email thread – may be on my side regarding the relative worthlessness of LB & SM after all. I doubt much will come of that email, but I at least was able to allow myself a few minutes of guilt-free wallowing in pure schadenfreude. snicker
** SM’s abysmal running of the customer support team means that those of us handling Level Two support have been drafted to cover Level One phone calls to the tune of 25% of our workday. So on top of of addressing higher-level technical troubleshooting, plus the account management and revenue stream maintenance that is supposed to be my entire friggin’ job, I now have two hours a day of “I forgot my password!” and "What’s my account number?"calls that any Level One CSR should be able to handle within their first day on the job.
But we have a few large accounts coming on board in the next several weeks, and since handling their setup is the job of Yours Truly, I WILL be asking to be taken back off the phones at that time. And by “asking” I mean “firmly advising.” If it doesn’t happen at that point, she will be duly advised of my intention to apply for any number of internal openings I’m more than qualified to get, at which point I will take the $1M+ annual revenue stream I single-handedly run and drop it like the mike of a triumphant MC. Or at least, that’s how my fantasies and daydreams run.
Oh, this is the Pit? Where we complain? Then a hearty DAMMITSTOPPIT to my next-cube neighbor, who not only smacks the sides of my cube walls as he walks by, but also bangs his fist on his desk in frustration when he’s dealing with a difficult caller, which is often.
Sending my coworkers over to my house to pump me from information as to what I’m going to do next is not going to do any good. You gave up your right to know what I was going to do when you threw me under the bus. It’s none of your business now. You’re just afraid I might draw unemployment. Well, I have plans, that might avoid that, but I don’t see how you need to know what they are. You can take the fake concern you’re famous for and put it where the sun doesn’t shine.
The Friday catering arrived 15 minutes ago (10:45) and it is soup, salads, and sandwiches.
The woman referenced in this post is muttering to others about how she’s not going to clean up after all of these "ungrateful bitches, after someone complained (to nobody in particular) how she boxed up a bunch of the “remaining” food around noon so that she could take it home (when others hadn’t even had a chance to eat yet).
She is hovering around the food, encouraging everyone to get soup or salad because “it is healthy,” to the point where it’s borderline shaming people if they don’t acquiesce to her demands.
I’m sure this has nothing to do with the fact that (of all the items catered today) the sandwiches are the one item that a person could take home and eat as leftovers, and so the more people eat soup and salad, the more there will be for her to plunder later.
Why the fuck do you wait until the Friday before a holiday weekend to send me stuff? By the time I get it, 1) the issue has marinated long enough in your inbox that it’s become an emergency and 2) like an asshole, you’ve managed to ruin yet another holiday weekend. Thanks, dipshit.
And to my IT “partners,”
Complaining to my manager that I have too many meetings and cannot accommodate your meetings does not do anything other than make my manager annoyed at you. In fact, your dickheadedness has resulted in instruction to my team for all of us to mark ourselves out of office for large blocks so we can, you know, work and shit.
Proceeding to schedule over my double-booked time slots and then “requiring” me to attend does not help. The net effect is I give my laptop the bird, decline your meeting indicating when I am available, only to have you attempt to schedule a four hour meeting with me (the hour I’m available plus three more). Then, I have to tell you, “I can be there for 60 minutes,” then you say, “but you’re required to be there the whole time. Because I have a schedule.” Right. Fuck off. I have a schedule, too, dictated by the federal government and senior leadership. I’m not going to tell my VP to suck it because you need me to be a blankie on a call.